


Never Takes Too Long

by purgtory (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 03:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8385970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/purgtory
Summary: With the reunion of the Winchesters, Castiel is left wondering if they still want him around. Meanwhile, Dean questions if Cas actually wants to stay. Written for the Spn Song Creations Challenge on tumblr.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Light Swearing

Laughter rang through the otherwise gloomy hallways of the bunker. It was the first thing Castiel heard from his position in one of the slightly more padded chairs. He blinked a few times to allow his eyes to become accustomed to light again, flexing his fingers and stretching his legs. It was a most strange sensation, being completely awake in his mind but feeling his body wake up.

 

He hadn’t been sleeping. Or…napping, as Dean called it. It was simply resting. Being still for a moment. Castiel had healed the worst of the Winchester’s wounds when the returned to the bunker. It had left him tired, but without the sense of exhaustion and helplessness that he usually associated with it. The Winchesters had thanked him, slapped him on the back, told him not to worry about the things that would heal soon enough. Dean stayed for a minute or two, making sure Castiel himself was unharmed, telling him to rest for a while, sheepishly trailing away to see what his mother and brother were doing. He looked back over his shoulder, briefly. Castiel pretended he didn’t see.

 

He needed the rest, but he didn’t want it. He wanted to sit around a table with them, to laugh and talk and be jovial. He wanted to be shown, or to be told, that he was not just an outsider, that he belonged with them as much as Mary did. He wanted to indulge in a bite or two of food he couldn’t quite taste. The things he wanted were human things, mortal things. He once would have considered them vastly below him, but not anymore. Castiel’s brief experience of humanity had not been enjoyable, not by any means. He missed it nonetheless.

 

But he was not a Winchester. That much was evident from the laughter and chatter rattling throughout the bunker. As much as Dean insisted, he still wasn’t quite family. Not exactly a friend. More than an acquaintance. Just the right combination of intelligence and power to be worth keeping on hand, without the likeability of someone closer.

 

_Pet angel._

_No. I’m more than that. I’m not…_

_Battering ram._

_Stop. I’m not just-_

_Yes you are, Castiel. You’re nothing but his attack dog. A weapon, a tool. Nothing but an object. He doesn’t love you. Doesn’t want you. He doesn’t even need you, not really. After all – they’re the Winchesters. And you? You’re Castiel. Teeny, weeny little Castiel. Worthless, useless-_

_Shut up! Shut up. Shut up. I’m not, he does, I’m…_

_Sure you are, Castiel._

 

Castiel didn’t need to breathe, but he did so despite it. Heavily. He let air roll in an out of his lungs, over and over, all the while shouting as loud as he could inside his whole mind. He couldn’t hear anything.

 

He needed to know if that evil little voice spoke the truth.

 

* * *

 

Dean found the note placed on the foot of his bed, folded in half. He knew it was from Cas before he even touched it. A little bit of black ink had soaked through the page, making faint dots and lines on the other side. He gently picked it up, unfolded it, and read.

 

_Dean,_

_I am sorry for leaving so quickly, without saying goodbye as well. I heard murmurings of one of the angels Falling – I think he landed in Northern Montana. I know I have very little connection to my brothers and sisters now, but I still wanted to make sure he was alright. Don’t worry, it won’t be dangerous. It will only take three or four days. I hope Mary and Sam are feeling better. And yourself, of course._

_Castiel_

 

It was a little abrupt, but Dean wasn’t exactly one to question it. He did feel a little bad – he could have gone with Cas. Just the two of them, while Sam healed and Mary adjusted. It would have been nice. Another part of the less complicated times he wished the Winchesters got.

 

He really hoped that Cas didn’t feel he wasn’t allowed to see his family. Well, brothers and sisters. In a sense. Dean of all people knew that sibling relationships can be messy and complicated. He wouldn’t want Cas to think he can’t still go be angelic or whatever with his family. Other family.

 

Dean sometimes worried that he wasn’t doing enough. Cas had saved him and Sam so many times, and dammit, Dean wanted him to stay. He couldn’t blame him for not wanting to, though. Cas deserved so much better than the life he had, than the life he would have with the Winchesters.

 

Dean missed him from the moment he saw the note. That much he knew.

 

_He doesn’t want to stay with you._

_He might…_

_Don’t delude yourself, Dean. Why would he want to stay with you? You’re nothing but a measly human._

_But-_

_Worthless. Useless. You can barely keep from accidently ending the world every few years. Hell, each year._

_No. I try. I’m helping._

_Really? How many people, total, have you saved again? Face it, you’re nothing. Nothing. Just a serial killer pretending to be a hero. Why would an angel want you?_

_No. Stop it. Shut up. Shut. Up._

_You treat him like shit. He hates you for it. Why else would he leave?_

 

Dean didn’t realise he was gasping for air until he heard it himself. He felt his hands, clenched into fists at his sides. He heard the sound of blood pumping through his ears.

 

He had to know. Know if that demon self of his was capable of telling the truth.

 

* * *

 

It had been an inconsequential lie, but Castiel still felt bad for telling it. Especially to Dean.

 

The wind breezed softly against his skin, the grass bending to its touch. The few flowers look a little brown – they’re tired after blooming all summer. The last car to pass his position on the side of the road reached the horizon almost an hour ago. Leaned up against the side of his (stolen) truck, tracing patterns with his fingers on the cool metal, Castiel was calm.

 

All he had to do was wait three days. Seventy two hours. Four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes. Or two hundred and fifty nine thousand two hundred seconds. It was excruciating.

 

Castiel thought that if one of the Winchesters – probably Dean, if anyone – called or texted him within the time he said he’d be away, they cared. He’d made sure they knew he wasn’t in danger. They would be calling to check in, or to talk, or something. And they were still recovering, thus no dirty work would need angelic assistance.

 

And if he, they, didn’t, then Castiel would wait until they did. And he would go back. He would cherish the little time he spent with…the Winchesters, and he would leave when he was no longer needed. Unless he was invited to stay not just out of politeness. It was saddening, but nothing meant more than keeping Dean – and Sam, and Mary – happy.

 

Castiel couldn’t ever just walk away from him. Them. All of them. He wouldn’t intrude, he wouldn’t get in the way. He’d be there. And then he wouldn’t be.

 

_Some guardian angel you are, Castiel. But hey, at least you know I’m right. No, I don’t. Yes you do. They don’t love you. Oh, wait, sorry, I said that wrong. He doesn’t love you. They all matter, they all matter to me. Do they really, though? Out of all of them, which one was the sole purpose for your creation? Which one have you given up everything you had for? What’s his name again? Shut up. Make me, Castiel. I dare you._

 

Castiel wasn’t sure if the storm clouds were made unconsciously by him, or if so much time had passed that they had formed of their own accord without him noticing. He was glad for them. Getting in the truck and driving to the next town along the highway was a distraction. Exactly what he needed.

 

* * *

 

The phone had turned itself off ages ago, yet Dean still held his finger over where the green ‘call’ button would be. Just when he thought he knew what he wanted to do, doubt edged its way back into his mind. He might sound desperate, he might be bothering Cas.

 

With a huff of frustration, Dean stuffed the mobile back into his pocket and got off his bed. He headed for the kitchen, either to get beer or make food. He just needed to do something. Psych himself back up.

 

It was just after 11, yet Sam and Mary had already gone to their rooms for the night. The sound of his shoes on the floor was too loud for his liking. After a while, Dean found it disconcerting. He kicked off his shoes and scooped them up into his arm. The soft pad of socks on tile was vastly more comforting.

 

The bright white lights of the kitchen made his eyes bleary. He stood, just appreciating it for a while. He had a kitchen – something he hadn’t had for the most part of his life. He had his mother, he had Sammy. He had so much.

 

_You’re just being selfish, Dean. You’re a selfish bastard, just like your father. No, it’s not the same. Isn’t it? It’s not! Mmm, sure. You can’t stop and think for one moment whether he even wants to come back. I can, I have been. Then you should know he doesn’t want to. He might. Is that the reason he leaves the moment you’re no longer in danger? Face it, Dean. He doesn’t love you. Shut up. Shut up! I’m gonna prove it. Ha, really? Good luck with that._

 

Before his brain registered what his hands were doing, he grabbed his mobile, unlocked it and hit the phone icon next to the contact named “Cas.”

 

* * *

 

Castiel almost didn’t realise that the sound of his phone buzzing was not just in his imagination. He answered the call with only a single glance at the caller ID – Dean.

 

He raised the phone to his ear and suddenly realised he didn’t know what he was going to say. Would he admit he lied? Pretend he was still on his way to Montana?

 

“Hello Dean.”

 

“Hey, Cas.” Both of them inhaled and exhaled a few times, making the line crackle in Castiel’s ear. He was relieved, and glad for the call, but he didn’t know what to say. He stayed silent, assuming Dean would start a conversation.

 

“So, how’re you doing?” Even over the phone, Castiel could tell that Dean’s nonchalance was as least partly feigned. Perhaps he did need something. Even so, Castiel would enjoy the company.

 

“I am well, for the moment. Still a little tired, but not overly so. How are you, Dean?” Still unsure of whether to say he lied or was on his way to Montana, he kept his reply generic.

 

“I’m good. Ish. I’m glad we’re all back together, hunting. Like simpler times, you know?”

 

“I’m afraid the complicated times were largely the result of me, at least to begin with.”

 

“Nah, Cas, that’s bullshit. No offence. Life stopped being simple when Dad went missing. Besides, none of it was your fault.”

 

“Thank you.” Castiel realised he was pacing around the cheap motel room, and sat on the less-than-stable bed. It creaked under his weight, but was comfortable enough. He felt the smile drawing the sides of his lips upward. He wasn’t ecstatic – it was just a phone call, after all. But it was something.

 

“It’s okay…Oh, also, I was thinking that I might get your room cleared up for when you get back? If you, uh, y’know, if you want it?” In all the years he’d had a human vessel, Castiel could remember perhaps five times when he smiled as much as he did then. Dean wanted him there.

 

_Or maybe he’s just being kind?_

_No, he’s not “just being kind.”_

_Are you sure? It seems like just a polite gesture._

_You can shut up now._

 

“That would be wonderful, Dean. Although don’t feel obliged to offer me a room…”

 

“Nonsense, Cas. I’m not exactly a polite person.”

 

_See? He wants me at the bunker. Because I’m a Winchester, if not by blood or by marriage or any other way one normally becomes part of a family. So you can shut up. Or you can keep talking. I don’t need to listen to you._

 

“No. You're not.”

 

“Ha ha. So, that’s a yes then?”

 

“Yes, Dean. That’s a yes. Definitely a yes.”

 

“Awesome…hey, you’re still good with the room next to mine, right?”

 

“Of course. Just don’t work too hard on it. In fact, wait until I get back.”

 

“No promises, but okay. Just come back soon, right?”

 

“As you wish, Dean.”

 

* * *

 

Dean was unusually happy for 2am in the morning. It was like he was high on dopamine or something. Something about that call with Cas had him grinning.

 

_Cas wants to be here. He cares. Take that._

_Are you sure that he didn’t just agree because you asked? I mean, you might have the manners of a sewer rat, but he doesn’t._

_Ah, shut the hell up._

 

Dean was drifting off when there was a knock on his door. Startled, he grabbed his gun and had his finger on the trigger within seconds. He wasn’t on edge, though. It was probably just Sam saying he was going for a run, or Mary telling him to go to bed.

 

He stumbled over to the door and turned the knob. It creaked open. Dean blinked sleepy-eyed several times, taking a few moments to realise that the person standing in front of him was neither his mother nor brother.

 

It was the solid block of tan that jolted him into the waking world. Tan-coloured canvas material, to be precise. Like that of an all-too-familiar trenchcoat.

 

_Cas._

 

_Cas?_

 

“Cas? Cas. Hi, Cas. You’re…Cas. Yeah.” Surprisingly, that was fairly articulate for the 3am version of Dean when not on a hunt.

 

“Yes, I am.” Cas was making fun of him and dammit, those eyes were looking at him with that warmth and Cas was smiling for one of the first times in years and despite his confusion and sleepiness and everything else Dean just wanted to grab Cas by the lapels of that bloody trench and kiss him until neither of them could remember anything else.

 

_He came back. He chose me. Freaking take that._

_Maybe there’s an emergency. Maybe he just wants your help. Or he’s about to leave. Again._

_Shut up, I’m not buying it._

_He’s just here because he said he’d be. Not because he wants to be._

_You know what? You can fuck right off. I’m right, you’re wrong, and you can shout your shit from the rooftops for all I care, because I sure as hell won’t believe a word of it._

 

“What…what’re you doing here?” Cas’ face fell.

 

“Oh, sorry, Dean. I didn’t, I’ll just…” Dean’s brain worked and realised perhaps he wasn’t the only one feeling as though his hands were tied with this whole thing.

 

“Wait, Cas, no. I didn’t mean to accuse or whatever. You can stay…I want you to stay, I just, I was surprised? Because I thought you were halfway to Montana by now?” Dean let out the breath he’d unconsciously been holding. He thought that, when the time came to talk, everything would just spill out in one messy jumble. So far, it looked like he was going to be right.

 

“Oh. Right. Apologies.”

 

“That’s okay, Cas. You, uh, you wanna come in?”

 

“Yes, thank you.” Dean leaned back to allow Cas in first, closing the door behind both of them. Cas sat a little awkwardly on the chair (well, his chair), and Dean plopped onto the foot of his bed. He awkwardly fiddled with his own hands before deciding to break the silence. Screw it all and hope for the best.

 

“You don’t have to explain, if you don’t want. Hell, I don’t know if there’s anything for you to explain. But even though I goddamn suck as telling people stuff…I want to. And it’s probably gonna be an incoherent mess. So yeah.” Cas didn’t reply when he finished talking, although it looked as though he was contemplating. Dean didn’t have time to worry about what he might say.

 

“No, there is explaining for me to do. I…I lied to you. There was no fallen angel in Montana. I just wanted to see if…I wasn’t sure if…” Cas sighed, face flushed with the effort of finding the right words. “I wanted to know if you wanted me here or not. That sounds blunt. Sorry. I wanted to know if you only ever were asking me to stay because you felt obligated to, after everything. I didn’t want to be an imposition.”

 

Dean felt strange. A good strange? Not entirely shocked. But he hadn’t been expecting that. He certainly didn’t feel bad that Cas had lied to him.

 

“Stupid, I’m so freaking stupid…” Dean muttered, momentarily forgetting that Cas would hear every word. Cas squinted his eyes. It was really cute, in that Cas kind of way.

 

“What do you mean? You aren’t stupid, Dean.”

 

“Yeah, I am, because there I was worried that you only stayed because you felt obligated to because of everything that’s happened. Because there I was, worried I was the only one who cared so much even though now that I think about it, it’s the stupidest thing in the world.” The impromptu speech left Dean breathless, but relieved. And anxious.

 

Cas looked genuinely surprised. His eyebrows were drawn together, eyes slightly wider than usual. Dean’s stomach fell a little, but he still hoped Cas might just be comprehending. Slowly.

 

“So…nothing that we’ve done these past few hours was out of…obligation?” Cas spoke slowly, carefully, as though treading hot coals.

 

“Yeah, exactly. Screw obligation, I say. Isn’t that our whole thing – screw anything and everything that isn’t our choice? Free will? I guess that kinda extends to social expectations. Cas. I’m choosing to ask you to stay…because I want you to stay. Not because it’s damn polite to! I mean, when in your experience have I ever seemed like the kind of guy that does shit to be polite? Hell, I’m talking your ear off right now, and that sure as hell ain’t polite.” Dean’s voice lowered, and he found himself struggling for words. He was about to say more when Cas jumped up from the chair, seized the sides of his flannel and crashed his lips onto Dean’s.  

 

Despite the abruptness, Dean melted into it, losing himself in the feeling of Cas’ dry lips moving gently with his own. Before he knew it his arms were pulling Cas down to him even more. He sucked along Cas’ bottom lip before pulling away slightly.

 

Cas looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world. Like he was glad that worked out the way he’d hoped. Like he’d just discovered a new universe. Dean felt the same.

 

And what a universe it was.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you guys think of this one? It was honestly so much fun to write and I hope I did it justice. 
> 
> Also sidenote sorry everyone else ignore but I am talking to my girlfrIEND WHO FOUND MY AO3 AND IS READING THIS because she is nosey (sorry everyone) (ily gf)


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